


Safer Living Industries

by casesandcapitals



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 18:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6622261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casesandcapitals/pseuds/casesandcapitals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Party Poison vanishes in a crackling light and is replaced by a man who looks just like him, who claims he's from a different world where mossy forests surround them instead of desert, and a corporation called Safer Living Industries is out to kill him and his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Desert

**Author's Note:**

> This is another work in progress, but I've decided to post what I have to get some feedback and encouragement to finish it.

Fun Ghoul looks up as a strange crackling noise fills the diner. Jet Star meets his confused gaze, then they turn to Party Poison and Kobra Kid.  
Poison is shimmering.

"Party, what-?" Ghoul starts.

Party Poison looks at him and opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out. The shimmering gets brighter, the crackling louder. Jet runs over and pulls Kobra away from it and Party looks terrified.

His lips form the word _Ghoul?_ then he disappears completely.


	2. The Forest

Frank stares at the spot where Gerard disappeared, tense and worried.

"We don't know how long it'll take," Ray reminds him. "Try to relax. When he gets back we can-"

Ray is cut off by the appearance of a body and a loud _oof!_

Frank, Ray, and Mikey all startle away, gripping their weapons. Whoever it is is dressed in colors Frank's only ever seen in flowers. Neon red hair, dark blue jacket, dirty white pants, a yellow bandana tied around his leg, a yellow mask slung around his neck and a myriad of patches and belts.

Frank points his knife at the stranger. "Who the fuck are you?"

He looks around and brushes his red hair out of his face.

It's Gerard.

"Gerard?" Mikey says. "What happened to you?"

"What?" he says. He stands up and looks at them carefully then takes in their surroundings. His hand drifts toward his thigh as he stares at them again. "Where the fuck are we? Why are you dressed like that?"

Frank looks down at his clothes. His pants were white, once, but now they're muddy and green in places where moss is growing. His shirt was white once too, but succumbed to the forest just like his pants. He tries to keep his leather holster free of moss, and it mostly works. He scrubs his boots twice a day so the moss doesn't cover them and trap his feet inside.

"Why are _we_ dressed like this, what happened to you? Where did you go?" Ray demands. Frank notices that he has his hand on his bow.

Gerard stares at them for a moment, then steels himself. He pulls a yellow gun from his thigh, which explains the extra belts Frank noticed, and motions to the forest.

"Okay. Okay, I don't know what happened, but whatever it is might've gotten the Dracs' attention. We need to move. Ghoul, you and me need to- Where's the Am?"

"The what?" Ray asks.

"The- the fucking Trans Am. Where's my car?"

"Gerard, there haven't been any cars since the pig bombs," Mikey explains with wide eyes.

"Don't call me that," Gerard says absentmindedly, like it's an old habit. "What do you mean, no cars? The pig bombs didn't.... Where the fuck did you guys find trees anyway?"

They were worried before, now they're scared.

Frank's knife, which he had lowered when he recognized Gerard, is raised again.

"Alright, who are you. For real this time. You're not Gerard."

"Would you stop calling me that!" Gerard whisper-shouts. "You don't know who could be listening, Ghoul!"

"What's 'Ghoul'?"

"You are! Fun Ghoul. That's your fucking name!"

"My name's Frank."

Gerard raises his yellow gun and points it directly at Frank.

"Bullshit. No one's more picky about codes than Ghoul. He'd never say that name. What is this, a BLI trick? Well, fuck you. You're not getting anything from me."

A tense silence fills the air, then a twig snaps somewhere to their left.

"Tracs!" Mikey hisses.

Everyone is up and running a split-second later. Frank is glad to know that not-Gerard runs from Trackers just like Gerard would, but this version crashes through the underbrush making enough noise to call every Trac for miles around.

"Gee, get down!" Frank hisses. Not-Gerard drops to the forest floor and Frank jumps on top of him.

"We'll lead them off," Ray says, pulling Mikey along.

"What-?" not-Gerard starts.

"You're making too much noise, be quiet!"

A minute passes. Not-Gerard is breathing heavily, still so loud.

Frank sees the Tracs the moment they appear. Their camouflage was designed in a lab, not grown in the forest, and a trained eye could pick them out immediately.

One of the two Tracs has heat-goggles, and Frank mentally curses. He can feel not-Gerard sweating beneath him. The Trac will see him any second.

Suddenly he hears the _twang-thump_ of a bowstring being released and an arrow finding its target. The Trac with the goggles crumples.

Mikey slides out of the underbrush behind the second Trac and slits its throat.

"Up," Frank urges. "Get up, get up, let's go!"

Not-Gerard finds his feet and the four of them keep running, only stopping when not-Gerard starts coughing and falls into a bed of ferns.

"Can't-" he manages to say before hacking up a wad of gray-brown spit.

"What the fuck is that?" Frank demands.

"Dust. The air's too wet here, I can't-" and not-Gerard starts coughing again.

"We'll hunt," Mikey says.

"Try to stop the coughing," Ray finishes.

They disappear into the trees and Frank leans over not-Gerard. He pulls a flask from his vest and hands it over. "Drink."

He downs every drop and his coughing subsides.

"We need to find more water, come on," Frank tells him.

"The others."

"They'll find us."

Frank starts walking and not-Gerard follows. Frank winces at how much noise he makes.

"Walk quieter," he tells him.

"What?"

"It sounds like you're snapping every fucking twig in the forest. Watch where you put your feet."

He gets quieter after that, but he doesn't move as soft and silent as Gerard would have.

"So if you're not Gerard, who are you?" Frank asks.

"Party Poison."

"That's a stupid name."

"Wow, thanks," he replies sarcastically.

"And what did you call me?"

"Fun Ghoul."

"That one's even worse." He hears Gerard scoff behind him. "And Mikey and Ray?"

"Kobra Kid and Jet Star."

"Why the code names?" Frank asks.

"You never know who's listening in the desert."

"There's desert where you come from?"

"Only desert, besides the city." He hesitates. "Kobra said Dracs... does that mean Better Living Industries is here too?"

Frank stops and turns to look at the red head. "He said Tracs, like Trackers. And it's Safer Living Industries. But yeah, they're the ones who send out the Tracs."

" _Safer_? Safe from what?"

Frank motions around them. "Safe from the forest."


	3. The Desert

There's a man sitting where Party had been sitting a moment ago. Same pale, pointed face, same bright green eyes, but that's where the similarities end.

This man is dirty, muddy, and covered in what looks like mold. His hair is dark brown and knotted, hanging to his shoulders.

Jet and Kobra get up off the floor from where they fell and rush away from the man. Ghoul already has his gun trained on him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Ghoul demands. "Where's Party Poison?"

The man takes a moment to study them, then looks around the diner with awe on his face. He opens his mouth to speak and immediately chokes on the dust.

Jet grabs a bottle of water and approaches slowly. The man puts his hands up in an I'm-not-gonna-shoot gesture and Jet drops the bottle of the table top.

He drinks half of it down in one go and finally stops coughing.

"My name's Gerard," he says.

Ghoul growls at the same time that Kobra makes a weird whining sound.

"Shut up!" Jet tells him.

The man goes perfectly, impossibly still. "What?" he whispers.

"We checked the diner for devices but you never fucking _know_!" Ghoul tells him furiously.

"Know what?"

"Who might be listening!"

The man thinks about that for a moment. "Why would they care what my name is? And if I can't call myself that, what should I call myself?"

"Better question," Ghoul growls. "Where the fuck is Party Poison?"

"Is that... is that my counterpart on this side?"

"Your what on _what_?" Kobra demands.

"Well," he says slowly. "You each look like a strange version of my friends from where I'm from. I'm assuming a version of me must exist here too?"

"Where are you from?" Jet asks cautiously.

"It's a world of forests and jungles. There's a corporation there that's trying to tame the forest so they can clear it away and build new cities. My friends and I, we discovered a piece of technology that could send things away, so I came- here, I guess- to learn what I could or find someone to help us survive against SLI."

After a moment of stunned silence, Jet asks "SLI?"

"Safer Living Industries."

"Holy shit, they're everywhere," Kobra groans.

"They're here too?" the man asks, startled.

"Better Living Industries," Jet tells him. "Trying to tame the desert and get us all on their little pills so they can control us."

The man sits back, defeated, then quickly perks up again. "But you're not, right? You've been fighting them off?"

"You could call it that," Ghoul says.

"How? Tell me everything!"

"Not tellin' you shit until you bring Party back," Ghoul tells him, still aiming at his heart.

The dirty man raises an eyebrow at Ghoul, and Ghoul scowls at how the expression makes him look like Party Poison.

"To bring him back," he explains, "I would have to leave, and I'm not going anywhere until I learn everything I can about this world."

Ghoul takes three long strides forward and punches the guy in the jaw.


	4. The Forest

"Okay," not-Gerard sighs. "I'm trying to understand."

Frank rolls his eyes and scrapes moss from his nails.

"The pig bombs, instead of destroying everything and turning the world to desert and radiation... actually just made mother nature flip her shit?"

"That last bit made no sense to me," Frank says.

"The bombs made everything grow? Like, super-charge-grow."

"I guess, yeah."

"And SLI wants to chop down the trees and build cities?"

"Yeah."

"Do they have everyone in the city fucked on their little white pills?" not-Gerard asks.

"Why would they be on pills?"

"To control them, to drown out creativity and force everyone to be their perfect, mindless little drones," not-Gerard says, waving an arm in the air.

"Uh, no," Frank says, moving to pick moss off his right boot. "Not the last time I checked."

Not-Gerard squirms and it reminds Frank of when Gerard tries to find an answer that keeps slipping away.

"Why did you escape from the city?"

"Escape?" Frank chuckles humorlessly. "We didn't. We got thrown out."

Not-Gerard's eyes widen. "They let you go?"

Frank shoots him a look before focusing on his boot again. "What part of _thrown out_ meant _let go_ to you?"

"Why did they throw you out?" he asks, leaning away from the tree trunk he's sitting against.

"I was in training to be a Trac. Got pissed, hit a superior." He shrugs. "One way ticket to the forest."

Not-Gerard's mouth is gaping.

"You were... and you....?" He puts a hand to his forehead and his slightly burnt skin gets smeared with mud. "That's just fucking... wow."

"You escaped from your city, then?" Frank asks, keeping the curiosity out of his tone.

"Me and Kobra took off in the dead of night, dodging patrols and paying off the right people. Got a car, put the pedal to the floor and never looked back."

"Why?"

" _Why?_ " not-Gerard gasps. "How could we stay in a colorless world of oppression and disappearances when freedom and music and art were right outside those walls? I was gonna turn eighteen and that's when they put you on the heavy shit. The real suppressors and stabilizers. We had to get out."

"Freedom from oppression," Frank sums up.

"Yeah," not-Gerard sighs. "Why do you fight them?"

"Because they're trying to kill us."

"They're trying to kill you because you're fighting against them, right?"

"No, they're trying to kill us because they want us to die," Frank explains simply.

Not-Gerard waves his hands around again and Frank bites the inside of his cheek, wishing Gerard were back already.

"The forest is a punishment," Frank says. "It's supposed to be a terrible death sentence that they use as a threat to keep people in line. The people in the city want the forest burned to the ground, they want cities. Only, the citizens don't know that you can survive in the forest, they don't know we're still out here. SLI can't risk people knowing about us. We have to be eliminated before they can start tearing down the forest."

"But you fight," not-Gerard presses. "You guys killed those Dracs."

"They were gonna kill us," Frank shrugs. "We only fight when they come for us."

"So... why aren't you trying to take down SLI?"

"Honestly?" Frank chuckles. "I don't want them taken down. I'd go back if I could, but once you're sentenced to the forest, you can't ever go back. Not to mention decontam would pick me up a mile away. I'd never make it passed the walls."

"You want to go back?"

"And have four walls and a roof? A hot shower, clean food and water? A dry bed to sleep in? Hell yeah I want back in."

Not-Gerard rubs his neck and sighs.

"But we can't go back, not ever. So we survive out here and try to live long enough to die old."

"So the only thing you fight for, the only thing you stand for, is your right to live?"

Frank looks up from his dirty hands.

"What more is there?"


	5. The Desert

"You don't understand!" dirty-Poison says. "I need to be able to fight back or they'll kill everything and everyone I know. I can't leave until I have some sort of weapon or information I can use!"

Ghoul grinds the heels of his palms into his closed eyes.

"I swear to the Witch," Ghoul growls. He hears Kobra hiss because he's superstitious, but Ghoul presses on. "If you don't switch back I will break every bone in your fucking body."

Dirty-Poison gets a smug look on his face.

"How do you know that I'm not connected to your Party Poison? What if hurting me is hurting him?" He tries to shrug but his hands are tied too tight behind his back. "I know that my friends are looking after him, but what if he's curled up in pain right now because of _you_?"

"You piece of-" Ghoul starts, starting forward again.

Jet catches his arm.

"You need to chill, Fun Ghoul."

Ghoul wretches his arm free. "He fucking-!"

"Calm. Down."

Ghoul breathes heavily for a moment before cursing and stepping away. He sits in a booth and glares.

Jet steps up.

"Alright look, say I choose to believe that you're actually from an alternate universe of forests and Safer Living Industries and real names, how do I know this isn't some trick of your universe's corporation?"

"Party Poison hates Better Living and fights against them with everything he has, right?" the dirty man asks.

"Right," Kobra answers.

"What makes you think that him in a separate world would be so different at his core?"

"If it's an alternate universe, it could just as easily be an opposite universe," Jet declares.

"Then wouldn't I look like the people you fight against? I assume they're not covered in mud and moss."

"Alright fine," Ghoul says. "If you're not so different from Party Poison, then I'm not so different from your version of me."

Dirty-Poison smirks a little at the obvious dance around his real name.

"So," Ghoul continues, "describe me."

"Well, my _version of you_ is just as bratty as you are, though a little less violent. He doesn't like to kill but he's the best at it. He gets sick all the time and is obsessive about keeping himself and his possessions clean. I could go on but I think some descriptions would be embarrassing for present company," he grins, nodding at Jet and Kobra.

"What does _that_ mean?" Jet asks.

"I'm not gonna describe our sex life to you."

"Your _what_?" Ghoul demands.

"I mean," dirty-Poison continues, "I don't know if you both do that awesome thing with your tongue, but if-"

Ghoul can feel himself go red as Jet and Kobra's eyes land on him.

"Wait," Ghoul interrupts. "You and him. You're... together?"

"Of course we are." He pauses and looks around at everyone's reactions. His eyes land on Ghoul and his smirk fades. He looks upset for the first time since he appeared. "You aren't?"

Ghoul doesn't say anything. He fucking _can't_ with the man who looks like Party Poison looking at him like that.

"No, they're not," Jet answers.

"But," he says helplessly, still staring at Ghoul. "We fell in love the moment we met."

Ghoul stands up and walks right out of the diner.


	6. The Forest

"Don't drink that, you fucking idiot!"

"What? It's fucking water."

Frank restrains the urge to slap not-Gerard around the head.

"Look at the edges of the stream, you notice something?"

The red head looks around and shrugs.

"All the moss," Frank points. "The river's infested with it. You want that shit growing in your stomach and lungs? You'll be dead in days."

Not-Gerard takes a step back. "Holy shit, really?"

"Yes, really." Frank grabs his stupid jacket and tugs him along, away from the river. "The moss is the reason we can't go back in the city. It's a sterilized zone, no growth. The stuff sticks and grows, consumes." He stops and holds not-Gerard's hand up in front of his face. "Look, it's already growing on you."

He looks at his hands and curses in horror when he sees the green spots starting to appear where he dipped his hand in the stream.

"Calm down." Frank peels a strip of bark from a tree and shows him how to scrape it off. "The city is pumped full of dry air and the water has chemicals. The moss can't survive there, but we're considered to be infected. Even with a full decontam, they'd never let us through the wall."

"They're not just fighting you and the forest, they're fighting the moss too."

"It's one of the side effects from the pig bombs."

Not-Gerard sighs. "Our radiation is your mutant moss."

"I guess so."

They start walking again, and Frank can tell that not-Gerard is looking around with new eyes, seeing the moss everywhere.

"How do you keep from getting infected?" he asks after a mile or so.

"By being very, very careful."

"It was kinda careless to just send one of your own off with no idea where he'd end up, FYI."

"Gee knows what he's doing," Frank says defensively.

"Jet and Kobra might be willing to help your guy once he proves he's not a Scarecrow or something, but Ghoul's probably bashed his teeth in already," not-Gerard muses.

Frank shoots a dirty look over his shoulder.

"Seriously, if your guy randomly disappeared in a fizzly light, which was really fucked up by the way, and I appeared talking about alternate worlds and Draculoids and asking for help, you're telling me you wouldn't have just slashed my throat right then and there?"

"I'm thinking about doing it now if you don't shut your hole," Frank growls.

"I wonder who would win in a fight, you or Ghoul?" not-Gerard muses.

"Frank would," says Mikey as he suddenly slides from between two trees and walks with them.

"All clear?" Frank asks, ignoring the surprised look on not-Gerard's face.

"Yeah."

"How'd you do that?" not-Gerard asks, waving a hand at the trees.

"Could hear you yapping for miles, it was like stalking an injured moose," Mikey smirks.

Not-Gerard narrows his eyes, like he's considering being insulted. Instead he just ends up chuckling.

"What?" Frank snaps.

"He's just the same, no matter where, apparently," not-Gerard smirks.

Frank walks a bit quicker, leaving the two of them a few feet behind.

"You brothers on your world?" Mikey asks.

"Fuck, you guys really don't keep secrets out here, huh?" not-Gerard sighs.

"No one to keep secrets from," Mikey answers. "So is that a yes?"

"Yeah, Kobra's my brother, a few years younger."

"He gonna be pissed?"

"Probably more worried. How long 'til your guy sends me home, huh?"

"That," answers Frank, "depends on how fast your friends help him."


	7. The Desert

His counterpart's brother is squatting in front of him, skinny arms crossed on his knees, squinting hard at his face.

"What are you called here?" Gerard asks.

"Kobra Kid," he mutters, not letting up on the squinting.

"What are you looking for, Kobra Kid?"

"You even have that little pink mark on your face like Party. It's so weird."

Gerard grins and almost moves to touch the mark on his cheek, but his hands are still tied. "How long until your Fun Ghoul calms down, do you think?"

"He never calms down." Kobra Kid stops squinting, blinking a few times. "Are you like, a 'droid or something? Because, seriously, they did a great job on you."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean by that," he says cautiously.

"Like a machine-person. BLI sent you here to spy on us, right? I don't know how they did the switch but FYI," he looks directly into Gerard's eyes, almost through them, anger on his face for the first time, "I'll blow you motherfuckers up if you lay one hand on Party Poison."

"Well, I can assure you I'm 100% human, and I don't work for BLI, and I sent myself here. I can also assure you that my friends won't hurt him. They'll protect him until I switch us back."

"Yeah, okay," Kobra says in a monotone tinged with sarcasm. "Maybe you should switch back now though, before Ghoul comes back in here and blows your brains out."

"I didn't mean to stir up any personal troubles."

"Ghoul's probably gonna punch Party in the face just on principle when he gets back," Kobra tells him, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a momentary smirk.

"He's rather violent, isn't he?" Gerard grins.

"Only when he feels threatened, which is like, a lot of the time. So yeah, I guess so. Yours isn't?"

"Mine doesn't like to harm others, unless he absolutely needs to. But like I said, he is the best at killing."

"Always seems to work that way, doesn't it?" Kobra wonders.

"Who's your best killer?"

"You askin' or spyin'?"

"Just asking."

Kobra shrugs and Gerard is surprised he doesn't fall on his ass. "Party's our best. But BLI knows that, so I'm not giving up any secrets."

"The only thing I'm interested in finding out is if you have anything that could help me and my friends defend ourselves against SLI," Gerard tells him seriously.

Kobra squints at him again. "We probably don't. Sorry."

 . 

Jet follows Ghoul out of the diner but knows better than to force him to stop.

"I'm gonna fucking ghost him," Ghoul shouts. His hand twitches toward his side holster, so he clenches his fists. "Seriously, I'm gonna blow his brains out!"

"Fun Ghoul," Jet says gently. "We need to focus on getting Poison back. I'm pretty sure ghosting the guy that vanished him won't help."

"It'll fucking help _me_."

"Why don't you take the Am, pay the Doc a visit, give him the 411 and see if he knows anything, okay?"

Ghoul yanks on his hair then runs both hands over his face. "You keep an eye on that spider while I'm gone."

"Duh," Jet says.

Ghoul pulls a disgruntled face but heads for Poison's ride anyway.

.

Ghoul can't help but calm down as he drives, even as pissed as he is. He doesn't like any of this, doesn't like that they've split up already. What if it's a trap?

Well, obviously it's a trap, Ghoul just can't figure out how or what BLI stands to gain from it. They could sneak a device into the diner easier than this elaborate switch. Unless the fake-Poison is there to find out how dangerous they really are, if they have any weapons. Or maybe he's looking for Dr. D.

Ghoul slams on the breaks, kicking up a cloud of dust. He spends the next twenty minutes going over every inch of the Am, looking for tracking devices, listening devices, anything that doesn't look right.

When he's satisfied that there's nothing suspicious, he sighs.

"So, not looking for the DJ, then."

He heads off again, watching the sun sink below the horizon.


	8. The Forest

Poison doesn't notice it at first, not until Mikey grabs a ladder and starts climbing. He blinks a few times and, slowly, he makes out the house hidden in the trees.

Frank's watching him, face serious and eyes hard.

"You live up in the trees?" Poison wonders.

"Where else would we live?" Frank retorts, turning to climb up after Mikey.

Poison opens his mouth to say how well disguised it is, how he wishes they had something like this in the desert, but cuts off when he hears a squeal up above him.

"Mikey! You're back!"

Poison knows that voice and he quickly climbs up after Frank.

The inside of the suspended house is hotter than the outside, dense with smoke and cooking smells. It's darker too, so it takes Party a moment to get his bearings.

There's furniture made of branches, a bed covered in grey blankets, a tiny fire going in one stone covered corner. And next to the fire, standing on her tiptoes to hug Frank, is-

"Motorbaby?"

Everyone stops to look at him; Mikey curiously, Frank suspiciously, The Girl delightedly.

"Gerard! You look like flowers!" she laughs. "What happened?"

"That's not Gerard," Frank says, turning away to look in the pot sitting above the fire.

"It worked, then? That machine Gerard found?" She squints her eyes at Poison. "So, you're from somewhere else?"

"The Desert," Poison answers.

"How long are you staying?"

"I'm not sure," he hedges, looking to Mikey since Frank's back is still turned.

"He'll stay until Gerard gets back," Mikey tells her. "No more questions, Grace, go wash up for dinner. Where's your dad?"

"He went to get more water." She steals one more look at Poison then leaves through a door opposite the one they came up through.

"She's-" He sits on a sturdy chair, not sure where to start.

"You called her Motorbaby," Mikey points out. "Is that her weird codename where you're from?"

"No, that's- that's what we call all the kids who don't have names."

Frank turns around at that. "You don't even know her _name_?"

"She doesn't _have_ one. She's just a motorbaby. We call her The Girl, sometimes."

"Well that's pretty shitty of you."

"What are we supposed to call her?" Poison demands.

"Grace," Frank bites back. "Her name is Grace."

Poison sits back. "Grace. Wow. I can't wait to tell her when I get back. She's gonna flip."

"Ray never named her?" Mikey wonders.

"Why would Ray name her?"

He gets two blank stares in return, and then he feels light-headed.

"Her dad? Ray's her _dad_?"

"Well," Mikey says carefully. "Maybe he's not where you're from."

"They've always been together though, even before me and Kobra made it out to the Zones. He must be."

"How come he never told you?" Frank asks.

Poison shrugs, running a hand over his face. "Safer if no one knows. Connections like that are dangerous in the desert. I don't even know if Motorbaby knows that Jet's her dad."

"You guys really need to work on your communication skills," Frank scoffs.

"It's not like that," Party insists. "I just told you, connections are dangerous for us. Better Living would use them against us, hurt the people closest to us to get us to back off." He sighs, deeply. "I'm exhausted. Is there a place I can crash for a bit?"

Frank and Mikey exchange a short glance, then Mikey nods.

"You can take my bed, come on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/17 - I just went through and added line breaks to this story and I'm going to try to start working on this and many other stories again.


End file.
